Newton Thomas Sigel: 'When
I got out of high school, I was invited to The Whitney Museum's fellowship
program in New York City. I was painting and making little films that used to be
called 'experimental', 'personal', or worse yet - 'avant-garde'. It was a great
time in New York and every day was filled with creative inspiration. Sometimes,
I would go across the street from my studio and listen to Phillip Glass rehearse.
Other days I spent hours at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, just staring at the Vermeers. On Mercer Street
was the Anthology Film Archives, which showed the works of people like Kenneth
Anger and Maya Deren. To make matters worse, I was enamored of the New Wave
filmmakers - Godard, Resnais, Fellini, Antonioni, and the like. Everything they
did seemed so fresh and invigorating, so unpredictable; they made me stop
painting to focus on filmmaking.

This
was also, however, a time of great political turmoil, so I inevitably gravitated
toward documentaries. With Pamela Yates and Peter Kinoy, I formed a team and
traveled to the most tumultuous places to make our films. In particular, the
work I did photographing the wars of Central America caught the eye of the great
cinematographer, Haskell Wexler.

In
1983, Haskell wanted to make a film about the secret war that Ronald Reagan was
orchestrating against the Sandinista government in Nicaragua. He helped get Pam
and me enough money to go to Honduras. From there we walked over the border to
Nicaragua and became the first people to film these secret proxy-warriors,
called the Contras. The resulting documentary was the basis for Haskell's film, 'Latino'.
That was what I still think of as my 'film school'.

Haskell
had no business hiring me, and I was too stupid and naïve to be scared. What I
did know was that I never wanted to slow him down, or have him think, "Why
don't I just shoot this myself?" There was a benefit to that - learning to
shoot quickly.

I
expected to soak up the magic of Haskell's lighting genius, but it wasn't really
the case. He felt so freed by not having to be the DP, or having a director to
restrict him, that every time I tried to use a little bounce card or something,
he would say, "Don't f**k with Mother Nature." I was doing my first
feature and wanted to light everything, so I had to remember that he hired me
for the way I used available light.

A
lot of what Haskell taught me, I didn't even realize until my next project. It
was a small film with Angela Bassett and Bill Cobb, and a first-time director
from the theater. On the first location scout, the A.D. asked how much of the
location would be seen. The director turned to me and said, "I don't know.
Tom, how much will we see?" That's when I realized I was on my own.

When
they started to rehearse, I found myself gravitating toward certain vantage
points and visualizing the camera as if it was another performer on the set. As
I helped the actors with blocking and worked out camera choreography, I realized
this instinct came from my days with Haskell.

On
'Latino', he had me following actors like I was shooting a documentary -
always seeing how far the shot could go, how much we could push any individual
set-up and letting the movement of the camera come organically from the
performers. Without my being conscious of it, Haskell had given me a foundation
in staging the actors and the camera. This is something that continues to
influence me every day I step on a set. For that, I will always be grateful to
Haskell. If you don't like my films, well, blame him.' [From
article 'Under The Influence 2006 - ICG Members Reflect On The Art And People
That Inspire Them To Create Memorable Images' compiled by Pauline Rogers.]